


i'm sorry about yesterday.

by staydear (Samdear)



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, and how they meet, i have no life, i literally spent seven straight hours writing this, rachel and chloe - Freeform, what happend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6027624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samdear/pseuds/staydear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Chloe and Rachel met, and how their relationship progresses from there, all the way up to the week that Max and Chloe reunite.<br/>Spoilers up to episode four.<br/>I literally wrote this all in one, seven-hour sitting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm sorry about yesterday.

**Winter 2008**  
 It's midnight on a Wednesday in December. Bright moonlight leaks through the blinds, illuminating a messy room. Clothes are strewn about, papers are crumpled in corners, and a couple of beer bottles are half-hidden underneath a bed that's missing its sheets. There are angry black scribbles on the tawny walls and a couple of messily torn out magazine pages pasted on the wall. This room has seen much change over the past two and a half seasons.

 In late Summer, all of the cleanliness fled. The space where childhood heights had been recorded was scratched out, replaced by profane exclamations.

 In Autumn, the first beer bottle appeared. It had been shoved under the bed in an attempt to hide it. By the time the second one appears, the drinker no longer appears to care if the bottles are hidden anymore. The first two magazine pages are taped up; one large, full-page spread of a pair of lovers, and another, smaller page depicting a girl running.

 By winter, there are at least six beer bottles laying around the room, stuffed under the bed, slid inside drawers. There are four or five more magazine pages surrounding the original two. The walls have more angry, desperate scrawls across them.

 But the room has not seen nearly as much change as the girl who inhabits it. Before the end of the Summer, she had been a boisterous fourteen year-old, a wild child. She had smiled brightly most of the time, and her laugh had been loud enough to wake someone up out of a dead sleep. She had run, she had smiled, she had loved, she had been happy. Not so much anymore.

 Now, she sits, illuminated by the moonlight, with her knees curled up to her chest, leaning against the sheetless bed. A half-empty bottle of generic vodka sits next to her. She is heaving and sobbing. She has never felt this alone.

Her father had died over the Summer in a car accident. Something so simple and horrible had happened to him, and it didn't feel right. He had deserved to go out in a heroic way, or at least someway less stupid than an idiot drunk driver t-boning his truck. But that's what had happened. There was no way to know that the last day the girl would ever see him would be a happy day prior to the accident. That there would be no way to see it coming.

And then her best friend had left a week later, right when she needed her the most. Her friend had held her as she had collapsed, sobbing because it _wasn't fucking fair_. The universe had taken her father, and now the universe was taking her best friend, the only fucking person that she wanted. She didn't want her mother, she didn't want the stupid therapist that her mother had forced her to go to. Her heart had ached for her best friend to be there. But she left. And she didn't contact her anymore.

The girl had tried calling her friend, but she never picked up. She had called four times in the same day, and her friend had never answered. So the girl thought, _fuck it. Fuck her_. And she gave up on her best friend. She never tried to call again, and her friend never called her back.  
She's never needed anyone more than she does right now. Her mother has gotten remarried, betraying her and her father. The girl has no one anymore. She has never truly wanted to die before now. She has downed the half bottle of vodka, and it burns like hell, much worse than beer does. She can't finish it, and she can't make herself take the handful of Tylenol that's in her clenched fist. Maybe she's just really, really drunk, but she swears that she hears a voice whispering in her ear.

 _Not yet_ , it says.

She cries harder, wishing that she could fucking die. But she's still a somewhat obedient child, so she listens to the voice, and she crushes the pills into powder with the force of her grasp. She tries to stand so that she can throw them away, but she's wobbly and knocks over the bottle of vodka, spilling it over the hardwood floor. She gives up and throws the powdered pills on the ground.

She curls up on her mattress and sobs. She fights to keep the fiery vodka down, but knows she'll end up puking in the morning.

   

 Chloe Price wishes she were dead more than she's ever wished for anything.

 

 **Spring 2009**  
Chloe is fifteen now, her birthday having just passed during the week prior. She is in her bathroom on a sunny, only slightly chilly March morning, holding a pair of sewing scissors. She eyes her hair with content.

 It had previously been nearly waist-length, long and sandy blonde. Chloe had decided that she was sick of combing out tangles for numerous hours. She had chopped it to shoulder length at first, but after staring at it for a few minutes, she chopped it so that it fell just past her jaw.

  
She loves it now. The short hair suits her, framing her pale face. Something still feels missing, but Chloe can't figure it out. She pulls an old brown beanie over her head, and it clicks into place for her. This looks much more natural.

 

Chloe smiles a real smile like she hasn't in months. She trots down the stairs with a bounce in her step. And of-fucking-course, her step father is at the bottom of the stairs.

 

David looks up, surprised. "Why aren't you at school, Chloe?" His voice is harsh. "What the hell did you do to your hair?"  
     

Chloe scoffs. "I cut it, dumbass." Her smile has been wiped away, replaced by an intense scowl.  
   

"Watch your tone, Chloe. Go get your ass in the car," David orders. "If we leave now, you can get to third period on time."

 

Rolling her eyes, Chloe mutters, "Like I care if I'm late for class at that shithole." But she is still somewhat obedient. She makes her way out to David's piece-of-shit truck, dreaming of the day that she'll have her own car.

  
While David drives her to school, Chloe day dreams of driving away, to some place new. Somehow, her mind drifts to her old best friend. The one that moved away to Seattle. The one that Chloe hasn't talked to since the week her dad died. She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts. She'd rather go to Portland, anyway. Seattle means a bunch of hipster bullshit.

 

 "-and I volunteered you to show her around... Chloe? Are you listening to me?" David's brutish voice interrupts Chloe's thoughts.

  
 "What?" Chloe says bluntly. She's not in the mood for step-douche's lectures.

  
David exhales sharply through his nose. "For the _second_ time, there is a new girl at Blackwell. She'll be starting tomorrow, and I volunteered you to show her around."

  
Chloe sighs. "Whatever."

 

 "You had better be nice, Chloe. That's an order," David says quietly.

  
 Chloe leans her head against the window, her newly cut hair scrunching up. The brown beanie on her head smells faintly of her father; pine trees and faded cigarette smoke. It both comforts her and makes her want to cry. 

  
Her classes are long and boring, and Chloe doesn't even think about the girl she's supposed to show around until dinner that night. Because it's Thursday, and her mother forces family dinners on Thursday, Chloe finds herself sitting opposite Joyce, while David sits at the head of the table.

  
 Joyce hadn't made much of a big deal over Chloe's hair. A simple, "You cut it? I wish you'd let me take you to a professional. But I suppose it looks good."

 

Chloe is stuffing a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth, when David clears his throat, no doubt about to make an attempt at conversation.

 

 "So, uh, I volunteered Chloe to show a new girl around Blackwell tomorrow. She actually agreed to it," David makes a noise that sounds a bit like a chuckle.

 

 Joyce smiles. "Well, isn't that nice of you Chloe? It'll be good for you to make a friend. You haven't had anyone over since Max left."

  
The name cuts into Chloe, causing her stomach to flip. She almost chokes on her spaghetti. Max fucking Caulfield. Her best friend. The one who fucking left her for dead.

  
Chloe has to say something now. David and Joyce are both looking at her, waiting. But she doesn't want to talk about Max. She tries to change the subject. "So uh," She manages to swallow the bite of food. "Do you know the new girl's name?"

  
 David nods. "Rachel Amber. She's from California. She's supposed to be an honors student, and all of her past teachers from her old school adored her."

 

 _Great, a fucking nerd,_ Chloe thinks. She's been friends with nerds. Hell, she was a a total dork before her dad had died. Like, full on anime and video game obsessed. She's not like that anymore, though.

  
 Chloe actually takes a little bit of time to get ready for school the next morning. She brushes her newly-cut hair and puts the same beanie on. She slides on a green tshirt and the brown leather jacket she had gotten for her birthday. She wears a pair of shorts, the weather finally having warmed up. She washes her face a few times.

  
It's only as she's sliding on a pair of converse that Chloe realizes that she's trying to look nice, wanting to impress whoever this Rachel Amber girl is. She feels a pit of hope in her stomach.

 

Maybe she can make a friend. Maybe she won't be so alone anymore.

 

When David parks the truck in the Blackwell staff parking lot, he turns to Chloe. "Please, Chloe. Be nice," He says gruffly.

  
"Jesus _Christ_ , David. I'm always nice," Chloe scoffs back.

 

She makes her way to the front office, per David's instructions. Mrs. Hyatt, the lady at the desk, looks up.

 

 "I'm here because I'm supposed to show Rachel Amber around. David... er, Mr. Madsen, sent me," Chloe says quickly. She _despises_ calling David 'Mr. Madsen.'

  
 Mrs. Hyatt smiles. "Yes, he told me he'd be sending you. Have a seat. Miss Amber should be here any minute now."

  
Chloe sits down in one of the plastic chairs that's against the wall. She fishes in her pocket before bringing out her little flip phone. She goes through her contacts mindlessly.

  
_David, Joyce, Justin,_ the first three read.

  
_Max._

 

 Chloe doesn't really know why she still has Max's phone number. It's not like she's ever even talked to her since Max moved away. But Chloe sits there for a minute, brushing her thumb across the screen. _Max_.

  
 "Um, are you Chloe?" A wavering voice asks.

 

 Chloe looks up and feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. The most beautiful girl she's ever seen in standing in front of her. The girl has long, reddish-blonde hair, and hazel eyes that are catching the sunlight strangely. She's wearing a red flannel over a tshirt advertising some band that Chloe has never heard of, and a pair of jean shorts. Her boots come up just past her ankles.

  
The girl raises her eyebrows and Chloe realizes that she's hesitated a moment too long.

 

 "Uh, yeah. That's me," Chloe smiles goofily, and points to herself like a dumbass. "Are you- are you Rachel?"

 

The girl smiles, and Chloe swears she looks like the sun.

 

 "Yeah. I'm Rachel."

 

 **Autumn 2009**  
  Chloe and Rachel have been inseparable since that first day. Rachel had seemed so confident in the school that Chloe wondered why David had even bothered to ask Chloe to be her guide. But she's sure as hell glad that he did.

  
 Both of them are fifteen, Rachel's birthday having passed in July. They're sophomores now.

  
The two of them are in Chloe's room. It's a Friday afternoon after school, and Rachel is talking about some dumb gossip that Chloe honestly doesn't care about. She just likes to hear Rachel talk.

  
 Rachel is so animated, waving her hands around while she's talking, pacing back and forth, so full of life, that Chloe just stares in awe. She's sitting on the end of her bed, cross-legged, a bottle of rootbeer in her hand. There's the soft crooning of some indie band Rachel likes coming from the CD player.

  
 And then Rachel stops mid-sentence, and stares at Chloe expectantly. Chloe blinks. "Sorry, what?"

 

 Rachel laughs. "I asked if you've ever thought about dying your hair. You'd look good with blue hair."

  
"You think?" Chloe asks. She's smiling some stupid smile, she knows. But she can't help it.

  
"Absolutely! If you want, I could help you," Rachel says, walking over to Chloe. She grabs a piece of Chloe's hair. "We could dye a streak of it first, to see how it looks."

  
Chloe nods, doesn't say anything, because her stomach feels tight, and her heart is fluttering. Rachel is so _close_ right now. Chloe can see the tiny, light colored freckles on the bridge of Rachel's nose, and the fractures of bright green in her hazel eyes. And Chloe really doesn't understand why she suddenly wants to kiss Rachel. Like, _really_ wants to kiss her. But Chloe's a chicken shit and she doesn't.

  
 She turns away before Rachel can see her face flushing, and goes to sit at her desk, opening her laptop. She's breathing quickly. _Cool it, Chloe_ , she tells herself. _It's nothing. It was just some weird urge because Rachel was so close to your face._

  
 "Uh," Chloe types a search for hair dye into the search bar. "What kind of hair dye are we looking at, Rach?"

  
Rachel comes up behind Chloe, leaning down to look at the computer. She puts her chin on Chloe's shoulder. "That light blue one looks kind of cool."

 

Chloe clicks on it. "They have this stuff at the drugstore, I think." It's an pretty blue color, like the color of the sky in September. Chloe instantly has her heart set on it.

  
]"Hey Chlo?" Rachel's voice comes from the other side of the room. Chloe hadn't realized that she had moved.

  
 Chloe turns. "Ye-" Her face immediately contorts into a scowl when she sees that Rachel has her picture box in her hand. "What the hell are you doing with that?"

  
 Rachel doesn't flinch. She rummages through the box, picking up an old Polaroid shot. Chloe knows exactly what the picture is without having to see it.

  
 "Who's this?" Rachel asks.

  
 Chloe gets up and snatches the photo away, only glancing at it for a moment before putting it back in the box.

  
 It's the picture of her and Max that her father had taken the day he had died. It had only been last year, but Chloe feels so distant from the Chloe in the picture; she looks happy, her hair long and her eyes bright. Max looked the way that Chloe would always remember her. She just couldn't imagine Max changing from the dorky little kid in the picture, the one with an uncountable amount of freckles, a brown ponytail, and a sweet, shy smile.

  
There are more pictures of Max and her in the box, pictures that Chloe refuses to look at. Pictures of her and Max in their pirate days, taking over Arcadia Bay. Chloe shoves the box under her bed with such a force that it hits the wall that the bed is against. She falls down onto her bed.

 

 Chloe takes a deep breath, desperately trying not to cry. "It's uh... That's Max. She was my best friend but she moved away after my dad died."

  
She feels Rachel's hand on her back. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I didn't know."

  
Chloe just nods, unable to stop the measly flow of tears that spill down her cheeks. She's still torn up about her dad. And about Max. She wishes that Max would call. But she never does, and Chloe never calls her, either. She gave up that first week.

  
 She just sobs. Five or six minutes must pass. Her ribs hurt.

  
 She doesn't notice that Rachel is holding her as she cries until she finally calms down a little bit. Chloe is leaning into her, and Rachel's cold arms are wrapped around her.

  
 "It's okay, Chlo. Really," Chloe hears Rachel mumbling.

  
 Chloe sits up and pulls away, red in the face. "Sorry," she says quietly.

  
 Rachel's expression suddenly turns guilty. "No, no! Don't be sorry, Chloe! I didn't mean to-" Rachel stops for a moment, as if measuring words to say. "I didn't mean to be nosey. I just saw the pictures and wondered what they were. I'm sorry, Chlo. Really."

  
 And Chloe forgives Rachel, because she can't not forgive Rachel, when Rachel is all she really has. Besides, Chloe knows that Rachel didn't mean to make Chloe upset. And she had held her until she was okay again.

  
 Rachel spends the night because it's Friday, and Rachel always sleeps over on Fridays.

  
     

 They walk to the drug store the next morning, and by noon, Chloe has a streak of sky-blue in her hair, and Rachel's hands are stained the same color.

 

 **Summer 2010**  
It's July 22. Rachel's birthday. She's turning 16.

  
Chloe isn't with her. Rachel is having a "family party." Which means she's with her mom and dad, and her little brother, and probably her grandparents. Rachel's not just the star of Blackwell; she's the star of her family, too.

  
Chloe, however, is not. She's not the star of anything. Sometimes she envies Rachel, but mostly she just likes to sit back and absorb Rachel's glow. Chloe is not a shining star, quite obviously. But Rachel is the _fucking sun._

  
A pack of cigarettes is in Chloe's pocket, as she makes her way up to the beach. She'd driven in her very own piece-of-shit truck she'd bought with her birthday money. Rachel and her had spent a couple nights vandalizing it, making it their own. Because it was Rachel's car too, as far as Chloe was concerned.

  
She sits in the sand, kicking her shoes off and digging her toes into it. It's cool and soothing.

  
Chloe takes out a cigarette and the special lighter that Rachel had given her for her birthday. It has a 'C' engraved on one side. Rachel had found it at the beach one morning in California, before she'd moved to Arcadia Bay.

  
"It feels like destiny that I'm supposed to give you this, Chloe," Rachel had said, beaming at her.

  
She lights the cigarette with shaking hands. She feels like such a clingy little asshole. Like a lost puppy. A planet without its sun to orbit.

  
This is the first summer night she's spent without Rachel since before she'd met her. They never got tired of each other, it seemed. Last summer, Rachel had spent her birthday with Chloe. They had slept over at Rachel's house, something that rarely happened. Rachel didn't want her little brother butting in on them, so they mostly stayed at Chloe's house.

  
The sun had set by the time Chloe finished smoking her cigarette. She sighed as she lit another one. She checked her phone. Nothing.

  
She mindlessly went through her contacts for the first time since she had met Rachel. _Aiden, David, Joyce, Justin, Max, Rachel, Trevor._

  
_Max._

  
Chloe stiffens at the name. She hadn't really thought about Max since that Friday afternoon last fall. Chloe wondered how Max was, what she had been doing.  
She could always look her up on Facebook. Except that Chloe didn't have one. Didn't want one.

  
She could always use Rachel's Facebook. Rachel was constantly on that thing.

  
Or she could just call Max.

 

_Call Max._

  
She almost does it. Her thumb moves to select Max's contact. Then it moves to the green 'call' button. And she almost presses it.

  
But then her phone starts to buzz in her hand, startling her. Rachel's name lights up the screen.

  
Chloe answers without hesitating. "What's up, Rach?"

  
She expects to hear Rachel's confident voice to answer, but instead hears a small, cracked remnant of it. "Where are you?" Rachel squeaks.

  
"At the beach. Are you okay?" Chloe asks, hearing the panic creep into her voice.

  
She can hear Rachel crying through the phone. "No," she says quietly. "Don't leave. I'll be there soon."

  
Rachel lives a short walk from the beach and is there within ten minutes. She trudges onto the sand. Her eyes are red from crying, her hair is a bit disheveled, and she's only in a tank top and shorts.  
Chloe has never seen anyone so breath-taking.

  
Instead of offering and explanation, Rachel just walks into Chloe, wrapping her arms around her torso. Chloe automatically returns the gesture, nuzzling her face into Rachel's hair.  
"What's the matter, Rachel?" Chloe asks after a moment.

  
Rachel doesn't answer. Only sits down, pulling Chloe with her, not breaking their embrace.

  
"Rachel?" Chloe asks again, pulling away with searching eyes. "You had better tell me before I mess up your perfect eyeliner."

  
Rachel laughs, despite her obvious sadness. It's a teary laugh, but it's a laugh, nonetheless. Her eyeliner is shit right now, having been rubbed off, and they both know it. But the joke lightens up the mood enough for Rachel to talk.

  
"My _fucking parents_ had to ruin my birthday. They got in some dumb argument over where Patrick," who is Rachel's brother, "and I are supposed to be staying tonight."

  
Rachel's parents have been divorced since Rachel was small, and Patrick was even smaller. Technically, they share custody. Rachel prefers her mom's house. She doesn't refer to her father's house as her house. Only her mother's.

  
Chloe sighs through her nose. "I'm sorry, Rachel. That stinks."

  
Rachel nods. "Before Dad left with Patrick, I told them all off for it. Told them that I was going to spend the rest of my birthday with you."

  
Chloe feels very vulnerable. Feels herself wanting to say something soft and mushy. She tries with fiber of her being not to. Instead, she find herself telling Rachel that she has some beer in her car, and that they can just hang out and drink on the beach, if she wants. Rachel happily agrees.

  
So Chloe gets the beer. And they drink. A lot.

  
Chloe drinks five. Rachel drinks six, because Rachel has always been able to drink more than Chloe. But they are both completely, totally drunk.

  
They're laughing about something stupid Chloe had said, and Chloe doesn't even remember what she had said, but she just wants Rachel to keep on laughing forever. The sound of it fills her up and she just loves Rachel, _so fucking much_. She loves her.

  
And Chloe is so drunk that she actually proclaims it out loud. "I love you Rachel. So much."

  
Rachel must be drunk enough too, because she laughs and smiles and wraps her arms around Chloe's neck, and sighs out in that confident voice of hers, "I love you too, Chlo."

  
Chloe is seeing everything crystal-clear, despite her drunkenness. She's seeing Rachel's hazel eyes in the moonlight, and notices the little golden flecks in the center for the first time. It makes sense for the sun to have golden eyes. She sees that more freckles have gathered on Rachel's face, lightly splattering across her cheeks. And she sees Rachel's lips moving without hearing what she's saying.

  
" _Chloe!_ " Rachel says loudly, a smile on her face.

  
"Huh?" Chloe asks, dazedly.

  
"I told you to fuckin' kiss me! It's my birthday!" Rachel slurs, and Chloe can't believe this is happening.

  
She's too drunk to think about what will happen tomorrow, and leans forward, kissing Rachel with weak force at first, until Rachel kisses back a bit less gently.

  
Somehow, Chloe finds her hands in Rachel's red-blonde hair, and feels Rachel's hands on her back, and they are only kissing, but Chloe swears nothing has ever felt this _right_.

  
When they finally pull back, Rachel is grinning. Chloe is too, laying back onto the sand, knowing that she'll have to wash sand out of her hair and clothes tomorrow.

  
Rachel yawns, and lays down, too. She puts her arm around Chloe's waist, curling up around her. Within a few minutes, Chloe hears Rachel's quiet whistle-snores, and feels the corner of her mouth curl up as she plays with Rachel's hair.

 

  
She's only sixteen, but Chloe _swears_ that Rachel is her soulmate.

 

 **Winter 2010**  
Rachel won't talk about that night. She becomes more closed-off around Chloe. She doesn't sleepover every Friday anymore. She starts going to parties with Blackwell kids that Chloe can't stand.

  
But she's still Rachel, and Chloe stills loves her. Chloe will _always_ love Rachel, even when Rachel swears up and down that she's 'unlovable,' and that she doesn't love anyone more than in the friend way.

  
Chloe _has_ to believe that Rachel is lying. That Rachel loves her as much as Chloe loves Rachel. Because otherwise, Chloe is still alone. Not completely, because Rachel is still there, and she's made a few friends at school through Rachel. But alone in the sense that, even if it was just one drunken night on a beach, Chloe had somebody, and now they're gone. No, Chloe _has_ to believe that Rachel is lying.

  
They're in the junkyard that Rachel had taken Chloe to a few months ago, a place that quickly became their go-to hang out spot. The tables are already littered with their belongings, the walls already graffitied.

  
_Rachel was here._

  
_Chloe was here._

  
It's snowing outside, and it had taken a long time to get into the little cement house and clear out some of the snow on the ground. But they managed it.

  
Rachel is sitting on the ragged couch, reading a music magazine quietly. Chloe is leaning on the wall by the window, smoking. They've had a lot of silences like these lately.

  
It's not that they're exactly uncomfortable silences, but they're not exactly _relaxed_ , either. There's the smallest bit of tension between them that shatters the easiness of it.

  
Rachel looks up from her magazine, putting in on the side table next to the couch. "Chloe..." Rachel begins, but doesn't finish.

  
Chloe meets her eyes uncertainly. Rachel smiles halfheartedly. Chloe looks out the window.

  
She hears Rachel sigh, and it's that same _god damn_ sigh that Rachel always sighs when she's about to either get angry or cry. Chloe doesn't know which she prefers.

  
But Rachel doesn't get angry, and she doesn't cry. She just sighs again. "I wish you would talk to me, Chlo."

  
And Chloe can't _not_ look over, not when Rachel calls her 'Chlo,' because that's always been her weakness with Rachel, and Rachel _knows it._

  
"Nothing to talk about, Rachel," Chloe says flatly, taking another drag, holding the smoke for a few seconds before expelling it in a cloud out the window.

  
She doesn't hear Rachel move, but suddenly, Rachel is standing in front of her, a determined look on her face.

  
"Please, Chloe. Tell me what's wrong," Rachel pleads. She's not really begging, but she's not just casually asking. "I care about you, Chloe."

  
And so, _of-fucking­-course_ , Chloe tells her. "That night at the beach, Rachel... I just thought that maybe-" But Chloe stops herself. She's already embarrassed enough without the possibility of breaking down in tears in front of Rachel.

  
She feels Rachel's cold hands on her arms, feels the jolt of electricity that shocks her skin wherever they make contact.

  
"Hey, come on, Chloe. We were both drunk as hell. I'm sorry that I made a move on you. I didn't mean to make things awkward between us-" Rachel sighs again, and this time, Chloe knows that Rachel might cry. "I thought that maybe you liked me, and then when you didn't say anything the next morning, I thought that you didn't want to talk about it. I know you don't like me like that, and I'm sor-"

  
"What?" Chloe feels like crying and laughing at the same time. "You thought that I didn't like you back?"

  
Rachel stiffens. "Well, yeah. You're always pining after guys and stuff-"

  
"Rachel, that's _you_." And this time Chloe does laugh, and Rachel does too.

  
Chloe hasn't ever seen Rachel act this unsure before.

 

"So, you _do_ like me?" Rachel asks quietly.

  
"Rachel, what the hell?" Chloe grins at her. " _I'm fucking in love with you._ "

  
Instead of answering, Rachel just kisses Chloe. It's freezing and Rachel has bits of snow in her hair and Chloe knows she smells like cigarettes, but it feels _right_. Just like that night on the beach.  
But this time they're sober, and Chloe knows that Rachel means it, because Rachel doesn't do things she doesn't mean when she's sober.

 

  
And Chloe loves Rachel. So much.

 

 **Spring 2011**  
It's March 11th, which means Chloe is turning seventeen. In celebration, Joyce buys her an entire bottle of the aqua blue hair dye, and David decides not to pick a fight with her.

  
Joyce wants Chloe to stay home for her brithday dinner, but lets Chloe leave as soon as it's over, laughing. "Be back by-" Joyce stops herself. "If you stay over anywhere, send me a message, Chloe."  
Chloe smiles and agrees. She can't believe that she's somehow survived the past three years. Rachel had saved her.

  
After getting onto the road, Chloe can't help but think about her fourteenth birthday, when she and Max had pretended to be pirates on the grounded boat in her backyard.

  
But she pushes the thoughts away, because tonight is about her and Rachel. Rachel had texted her earlier, saying, "Meet me @ the beach. 7:30. Presents."

  
They weren't exactly dating. Rachel had admitted that she didn't want people knowing that she "kinda sorta also liked girls." And Chloe had understood. It didn't make her feel any better that Rachel's hiding her was for an understandable reason. But Chloe understood anyway.

  
Because when they were alone together, everything was special. Rachel loved Chloe and Chloe loved Rachel. There was no doubt, no fear that Rachel didn't love her. Chloe just knew that she did. It was like knowing that her heart was beating. She could feel it.

  
Chloe reaches the beach a little past 7:30, but she knows that Rachel will have expected her to be late.

  
She walks up the beach with her hands in the pocket of her new leather jacket that she had bought earlier that day, using the birthday money that her relatives had sent her in the mail.

  
Rachel is sitting in their usual spot, on a blue blanket, reading some book. She hasn't spotted Chloe yet, and Chloe takes the moment to look at Rachel while she's unaware someone is looking at her.  
Her eyes are squinting in the sunset light, trying to read the page she's on. Her lips are pressed together in concentration. She's got her knees pulled up to her.

  
All Chloe can think is, _That's my fucking nerd right there_.

  
And then Rachel spots her and scrambles to stand up. She dashes to Chloe, immediately jumping to put her arms around Chloe's neck.  
"Woah, down, girl! Be a good dog," Chloe says, laughing.

  
Rachel smirks. "What, is that a kinky thing?"

  
Chloe turns red. "No! Why do you have to turn everything into something sexual?"

  
Rachel just laughs at her, winking teasingly, and turning to walk to the blanket. Chloe follows her, a stupid grin on her face.

  
A small box sits on the blanket, along with a picnic basket. Rachel begins to take out two cupcakes and a birthday candle.

  
"Jesus Rachel, this is hella corny," Chloe says. She's still smiling.

  
Rachel scoffs. "Did you just say 'hella'?"

  
"So what?" Chloe says. "You still love me. I could sing the 'Rachel Song' and you'd still love me."

  
Rachel's face goes red as she freezes. "You wouldn't do that."

  
Chloe wiggles her eyebrows. "Wanna bet?"

  
Rachel narrows her eyes. "Chloe..."

  
"Rachel was a reddish-blonde, straight from California," Chloe begins, sing-songing to the tune of Old McDonald. "Then she moved to Arcadia, and became a por-"

  
Rachel tackles Chloe, laughing. Her hair hanging in Chloe's face, Rachel kisses the tip of Chloe's nose before getting up. Chloe turns the same shade of pink as the sunset.

  
They sit in silence for a few moments as Rachel lights the candle of the end of Chloe's cupcake. She hands it to her, singing her "Happy Birthday."

  
Chloe has never been so happy.

  
After finishing her cupcake, and shoving the candle in her pocket, Rachel hands Chloe the box.

  
"Happy birthday, Chlo," she says.

  
Chloe opens the box to find a few things. On the top, there's a necklace with three bullets on it, which she puts on immediatley. Under that, there's a blue handmade friendship bracelet.

  
Rachel holds up her own wrist, showing the same bracelet, but in green. "Now we can totally be matching."

  
Chloe smiles, and then grabs the last thing out of the box. It's a dark blue beanie, brand-new, still smelling like a store.

  
Chloe shoves it on her head. "I love it. All of it. Thank you, Rachel."

  
Rachel just pushes the hair out of Chloe's eyes and kisses the bridge of Chloe's nose. "I love you, Chloe."

  
Chloe is filled with an unimaginable warmth. "Love you too, Rachel."

  
And then they are kissing as the sun finishes setting over the water, and the moon comes out. They stay there for an hour more.

  
And then they go back to Chloe's house. Joyce doesn't question Chloe coming right back home. She just smiles and says hello to Rachel.

  
Rachel helps Chloe dye all of her hair blue in the bathroom. It takes two hours to do, and they are both exhausted afterwards.

  
While they are in Chloe's room, getting ready to go to bed, Chloe notices Rachel just... _staring_ at her. It's not unsettling, but it's strange. Normally it's the other way around.

  
"Why are you staring at me, Rachel?" Chloe asks.

 

  
Rachel takes a moment to respond.  
"I just... I love you so much is all."

 

 **Autumn 2011**  
_She's at her father's funeral again. They're lowering him into the ground, and she's trying so hard not to cry. Her mother is grasping her hand, and she can see Max on the other side of the grave with her parents. She doesn't want them to see her cry._

  
_And then she's in the hallway of her house, sobbing so hard her ribs hurt. Max is there. Max is holding her._

  
_"It's not fucking fair, Max! You can't move away right now. I need you," she hears herself saying._

  
_"I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm so sorry." Max says, sounding like she might cry too. But Max has always been mature, despite being a year younger, and she holds herself together for her friend._  
_And then she's back to the Winter of the year her dad died, with the vodka and the pills, except this time she's taking them and all she can think is that they all left. They all fucking left her and she wants to die and she is-_

  
Chloe wakes with a start, gasping. She's in her bed, and Rachel is next to her, sleeping, her little whistle-snores filling the silence.

  
Chloe doesn't realize what she's doing until she's already done it. She's holding onto Rachel, hugging her while they lay on their sides, grasping at her back, trying not to cry. Just holding onto Rachel, making sure that she's real.

 

  
She is.

 

 **Summer 2012**  
Something has changed. Rachel has stopped being so involved in their relationship. She tells Chloe that it's nothing, but Chloe knows something is happening. She's known Rachel for too long, too well, not to know.

  
The first time she gets an inkling that Rachel might be interested in someone else is when Chloe overhears Rachel on the phone one morning. And Chloe feels like she's going to throw up, because Rachel might like someone else. _Rachel might leave her._

 

But Chloe pushes it away, but the idea of being abandoned makes her want to die again, and she never wants to be back in that place.

  
They spend most of their days at the junkyard now. The beach is too crowded during the day in the summer. 

  
Rachel brings a portable fan to the cement shack, and since it's shaded anyway, it's a nice escape from the heat.

  
They crank up music most of the time.

 

Rachel reads. Chloe smokes. Rachel dances. Chloe smokes. Rachel sings. Chloe smokes. Rachel kisses Chloe. Chloe kisses her back.

  
Chloe knows most of the songs that Rachel likes now. She knows more indie bands than she'll admit. She even actually likes the music, even if she never lets on that she does.  
Rachel lets Chloe play some of her punker music, to be fair. She likes to dance with it, she tells Chloe.

  
They sleep over at Chloe's house. They makeout, they sleep, they wake up, they eat, and then they go back to the junkyard. It's a routine that Chloe enjoys.

  
But she can feel Rachel getting antsy with it. The pressure of it keeps building up and up until one day, Rachel explodes.

  
"Chloe, I want to run away," Rachel suddenly blurts out of nowhere one day. "We're both eighteen now, so no one can stop us."

  
Chloe notices the way she says us. She almost cries. " _Fuck_ , Rachel," she says giddily. "That's... yes!"

  
Rachel grins. "You want to go? We have to get some money, but with my job, I can pull through at least half of what we need. We can take your truck."

  
"Yes, _yes_! I want to go!" Chloe is up and grabbing Rachel's hands. "I'll find money somehow."

  
Rachel is estatic. "We'll leave in the fall, then." She kisses Chloe with a smile.

 

  
Chloe is so happy.

 

 **Winter 2012**  
They don't leave in the fall. Chloe doesn't have money, and Rachel has begun acting even more detached.

  
They talk about it all summer, making plans. Rachel will be a model and make their money. Chloe can be a waitress somewhere for a little while. They'll live out of the truck until they can afford to rent some place. Chloe is so excited.

  
But fall comes and goes, and they're still in Arcadia Bay. Rachel is distant. Chloe feels more and more panicky, because she can feel Rachel slipping out from between her fingers. The more she tries to pull her back, the more Rachel pulls away.

  
One week, two _days_ pass without Chloe hearing from Rachel. Chloe doesn't call, doesn't text. She feels petty about it, but she can't help thinking that if Rachel actually cared about her, then she would call.

  
Rachel doesn't call.

  
Chloe spends that night in her room, staring at the ceiling. She feels like her soul is trying to uproot itself, trying to leave her body and fly away. She knows where it wants to go. To Rachel.

  
Finally, Chloe has to leave her house. It's two in the morning, so she sneaks out the window, hopping off her roof and onto her driveway.

  
She gets into her truck and drives. She doesn't know where she's going. She doesn't really care.

  
Somehow, she ends up at the beach. She's making her way to her and Rachel's usual spot, when she realizes that Rachel is already there. With somebody.

  
She's standing with some guy. Chloe can't tell who it is from the distance, but she feels her stomach drop.

  
_Maybe it's just a friend_ , Chloe thinks. She knows it's not. But she hopes anyway.

  
The guy hands Rachel something.

  
_Maybe it's just a drug deal_ , Chloe thinks. That's more likely. In fact, that's probably what's happening. Rachel has to get her weed somewhere, at some time.

  
Chloe has just convinced herself that it's all that's happening, and is about to go back to her truck, resolving to just call Rachel tomorrow, when she sees Rachel reach up and kiss the guy. Chloe can't tear her eyes away from what's happening. Rachel is kissing the guy. He is kissing her back. They pull away, and she thinks that she sees Rachel make eye-contact with her for a split second, before Chloe turns away.

  
_I fucking knew it_ , Chloe thinks aggressively. She shoves her hands into her jacket pockets and begins to stomp back to her car. She feels the tears in her eyes beginning to well up, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal washes over her.

  
She sits in the driver's seat of her truck for a long time, crying. Everybody she's ever loved has left her.

  
_Dad._

  
_Max._

  
_Even Rachel._

  
Chloe just can't stop crying. She can't drive away from where she's parked, and she can't do anything except for just sit there and cry into her hands.

  
She pulls out a six-pack of beer from under the passenger seat, and starts drinking. She finishes all six.

'  
Eventually, she starts screaming. Like, bloody-murder screaming. So loud that it blocks out the sound of the ocean in her ears. So hard that she feels her throat getting painfully raw.

  
"Fuck you, Dad! Fuck you for fucking leaving me!" She screams.

  
"Fuck you, Max! Fuck you for leaving me when I needed you! Fuck you for never calling me!" She screams.

  
"Fuck you, Rachel! _Fuck_ you for making me feel loved, and for saving me, and for being such a _fucking_ whore that's too scared of what people think of you to admit that you fucking love me in public! _Fuck you, Rachel_!" She screams so loud she thinks her own ear drums might burst.

  
And then she curls into a little ball and scream-sobs, wheezing and coughing and screaming and crying.

  
Like always, she doesn't notice that Rachel's there until she's calmed down. She doesn't notice the pressure around her as Rachel holds her more tightly than she ever has. She doesn't notice Rachel crying with her, wheezing out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so _fucking_ sorry, I love you, Chloe, I'm so sorry," over and over again.

  
And when she finally does, she hisses, retracting to the other side of the cab, glaring at Rachel with so much hatred, that Rachel flinches. It's the first time she's reacted to Chloe's anger like this. The first time she's cried with Chloe over something like this.

  
"Chloe-" Rachel says, her voice breaking.

  
Chloe shakes her head violently. "Leave me the _fuck_ alone, Rachel. Just leave me _alone_."

  
"I love you, Chloe. I'm so sor-"

  
"Get the fuck out of my car! Go _away_!" Chloe screeches.

  
Rachel is crying harder now. "Please, Chloe. That wasn't what it looked like, I- I love you, Chloe-"

  
"Then you shouldn't have ignored me for two fucking days and then hooked up with some douche," Chloe knows she's drunk. She doesn't care. She knows her words are slurring. She still doesn't care. "That's not something someone who loves someone does to the person they love."

  
"Let me drive you home, Chlo. Please. You're too drunk to drive," Rachel says, her voice cracking, her smudged eyeliner and running mascara making her look like some sort of reality-show-girl-gone-wrong.

  
And because Chloe knows somewhere in the back of her head, she knows that Rachel is right, and because Rachel called her Chlo, and that's Chloe's weakness, and Rachel _fucking knows it_ , she lets Rachel drive her home.

  
She's so drunk, that she can't get back into her house by herself. Chloe resents that Rachel has to unlock her door for her, and help her get up the stairs.

  
It's five in the morning, and Chloe knows that Joyce will be awake any minute, and Rachel will get caught leaving. That Rachel doesn't have a way to get home anyway. Rachel knows it too, and quietly, cautiously climbs into Chloe's bed.

  
And suddenly, Chloe feels so _small_. The tears are softer this time. She just feels completely broken. Abandoned. Even though the person she loves most in the world is right next to her.

  
She feels Rachel wrapping around her gently, and she knows she should pull away, but she's too tired and too weak and too drunk to do it. Instead, she falls into Rachel's arms, letting herself be comforted by one of the people who made her feel like this.

  
"Ra-Rach-el..." Chloe cries.

  
Rachel pushes Chloe's hair out of her face. "What is it, Chlo?" She responds gently.

  
"Please... Please don't leave me. You're all- you're all I have left," Chloe says, tears hot against her cheeks. "I need you."

  
And then Rachel is crying again too. "I will _never_ leave you, Chloe. You hear me? _Never_."

 

  
And Chloe believes her.

 

 **Spring 2013**  
_I've been played like a fucking fool_ , Chloe thinks. _She lied and I believed her like an idiot._

  
Rachel suddenly got distant again a week ago. Stopped hanging with Chloe again. Chloe's mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, that Rachel was seeing someone else again. But she pushed the thoughts away, remembering Rachel's promise.

  
Rachel hasn't answered a text in nine days. She hasn't answered a single phone call. They all go straight to voicemail. She hasn't been at any of their hangouts.

  
Chloe had gone the entire week of Spring Break without Rachel. Not that it mattered anyway. Chloe had gotten expelled in February. But Rachel was off of school and had promised to spend the better part of the break with Chloe.

  
Chloe had spent the whole week without a word from Rachel, seething and crying and smoking. She hadn't had much to drink since the episode in the car. It freaked her out too much.

  
Right now, she's sitting in front of Blackwell. It was Tuesday. Rachel hadn't been at school yesterday, but Chloe figured she'd be back by today.

  
She hears a tap on the window, and, seeing that it's Justin, rolls down the window.

  
"Hey, Price. What are you doing here?" He asks, lacking his usual high-as-a-kite tone.

  
"Lookin' for Rachel. You seen her?" Chloe asks desperately.

  
Justin shakes his head. "Sorry, brah. Rachel hasn't been at school in two days. I'll text you if I see her though."

  
Chloe just nods. She says goodbye to Justin, and then drives off, heading towards the beach. Part of her hopes that Rachel will be in their spot.

  
She's not.

  
Chloe is angry. She's so angry that her face turns red. This is not the kind of drunk-and-hurt anger that she felt when she saw Rachel with that guy on the beach. This is sober-and-fucking-angry anger.

  
Rachel _promised_.

  
Chloe spends the next week smoking and drinking. She scribbles on her walls. She doesn't sleep soundly. Something about all of this just doesn't sit right with her.

  
It's not until it's the end of April that Chloe finally starts to worry. Because Rachel promised. Rachel was sober. And Rachel doesn't say things she doesn't mean when she's sober.

  
She hasn't been at school in a couple of weeks. Nobody anywhere has heard from her. She hasn't contacted anyone.

  
At first, Chloe thinks that Rachel finally ran away, by herself, leaving Chloe behind because Chloe didn't have enough money to go.

  
But then Chloe remembers again.

_"I will never leave you Chloe."_

And then she feels guilty as hell that she even considered Rachel leaving her like this.

  
She keeps expecting Rachel to show up. She expects Rachel to knock on her door any day now, hug Chloe, and apologize. Tell Chloe that she left or something. But that she couldn't do it without her.

  
Rachel doesn't show up.

  
Chloe begins to drink again. She smokes and drinks and cries. She gets a huge tattoo on her arm. She doesn't take off her bullet necklace, or her bracelet, or her beanie. But then she stops doing anything at all.

  
Rachel is gone. Chloe doesn't know where she went.

  
Chloe just want to die.

 

She just wants to _die_.

 

**Autumn 2013**   
  


Chloe cries over Rachel's rotting dead body, buried only a few yards from their favorite hangout.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is actually the title of a song by Fox Academy.  
> After spending 7 straight hours writing this, and then another two formatting, I am proud an exhausted :)


End file.
